I really have no response to the post per se, because I don't think I could improve on the text or mouseover in any way, but it did remind me of this:

When my youngest sister (half-sister, really but I don't think of her that way) was engaged, Middle Daughter, now 16, was 5ish. She was very taken by my sister's fiancé, who showed what Middle Daughter considered to be a flattering interest in her and her concerns. One day Middle Daughter and Fiancé were out at the swings, when Youngest Sister came out to join them. As far as Middle Daughter was concerned, this was an unwelcome development.

"We're talking!" she said, in an attempt to make clear to the interloper that she was not needed.

This didn't work. Time to point out her superior assets. She looked at Youngest Sister, who has the dark almond eyes and glossy dark hair from her Arab heritage.

Mac shrugged. “I drove out to Brookhearst yesterday to scope the place out – a couple of times I wondered if I was being followed, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“It probably was the fashion police this time.”

“I didn’t buy the shirt till afterwards,” Mac declared in an aggrieved tone. “There was a street fair going on in Corte Madera.” He glowered at Jason. “I do not believe I’m getting this from a guy who wears orange and yellow tie-dye.”

“C’mon, Mac. Tie-dye is one thing. But tropical flowers? Pink and purple and orange ones? Just tell me that thing has a volume control on it, or I’ll have the neighbors complaining at night.”

“Tell ‘em to get sunglasses.”

“They’re going to need blindfolds.”

* * *

And . . .

* * *

MacGyver pulled off the wrapping expecting the worst, and broke out into a broad grin when he held up the contents: a short-sleeved, open-collared cotton shirt in bright sky blue, a color guaranteed to make any DXS ops coordinator froth at the mouth. It was spattered with red and yellow cartoon figures of rocket ships and explosions, and large white and yellow letters reading “BANG” and “BOOM”. The shirt wasn’t merely ‘conspicuous’ or even ‘attention-grabbing’: it was strident.

Mac loved it on sight.

Segue to . . .

Jason studied Mac thoughtfully. “You know, I had my doubts when Gina brought that shirt home, but it’s okay. But what happened to your hair? It looks lighter than it used to be.”

Mac pulled one of the longer strands around so he could peer at it. “Beats me. You remember when Baba had me use that dye, when she took me to Baranyev’s house that first time? Afterwards, she gave me some other stuff to get rid of the dye, but I swear it made everything way lighter than before.”

Jason shrugged. “Well, you know what they say – if you stay in California long enough, sooner or later you’ll turn into a blond. Now you just need to get a red sports car.”

ETA: And I did have him take his shirt off several times. I also made him get into a hot tub. Wasn't I mean?